


Another you, Another me [Suit!Junkrat AU]

by trashmousejrt



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Basically, Gen, Junkrat is a nerd, Junkrat is a suit, Other, australia is safe, the omnium never exploded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashmousejrt/pseuds/trashmousejrt
Summary: It was just an ordinary day, in the life of the ordinary Jamison Fawkes. Nothing seemed out of place, his daily routine went on like normal.Yet something felt wrong. He couldn’t really point out what it was… but it just felt off.It felt wrong.He was in danger, he knew that much. Or was it just his mind playing tricks?Was it the stress?Is he finally losing his mind?





	Another you, Another me [Suit!Junkrat AU]

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh okay so, hello everyone!  
> This idea was incredibly random, for some reason it suddenly popped into my head this morning in class, and it hasn't left me since.  
> What would happen if Junkrat became the thing he hated the most, huh?
> 
> Well, you'll see. 
> 
> Also, please don't be too harsh. This is my first fanfiction I've written in what seems to be 6 years.  
> My native language isn't english, either. Soooo... apologies.
> 
> I still hope you'll enjoy!

Jamison Fawkes wasn’t an extraordinary man. Sure, he made it to Oasis as minister of engineering at the sweet age of 23, and sure, by 25 he had already managed to become a very successful businessman.

  
But that was about it. Behind his sweetness, intelligence and shyness, there wasn’t really much else.  
In short, he was a huge nerd. A dork, you could say. Terrible when it came to human interactions, terrible when it came to women (and men), and, well, he was overall just an anxious mess.

Yet to him, that was okay. He helped people who needed it most.  


He built prosthetics, and recently he had started to work on helping Omnics who had gone through traumatizing experiences, such as wars and violent protests. Even if the price he had to pay was a daily routine of bullying, teasing, and whatnot. It was fine. All was fine. He had a purpose, even if his colleagues didn’t see it. Even if they called him a nerd, pushed him, and “accidentally” spilled coffee over his documents .

  
“James !” a penetrating voice called.

  
“Yes?” Jamison turned around, adjusting his round glasses as he stood up. He pulled his sky-blue shirt down, and fixed wrinkles that came from being sat down for so long.

He may have towered above the woman, but he was the opposite of intimidating. He was lanky, dorky, and, although he had good posture, he still seemed to struggle with his height. He had absolutely no muscle mass and it was very obvious. His boss, on the other hand… Oh boy.  


She may only have reached to Jamison’s collarbone, but she was scary. He had never liked her. She may have had good will and good intentions, but she rarely showed them. Profit was the only thing she seemed to have been after ever since she started working there. In fact, she never seemed to care about anyone but herself.

'If she were to be a ruler, she would’ve been a pretty… bad one', Jamison thought.

  
He inhaled sharply as the brunette approached him, loudly slamming an entire folder of paper on his desk, right next to where he stood. Her scary, stern attitude made the tall man back up.

  
“You. Files. Now. And you ain’t leaving until you’re done…hear me?”  


The blond nodded.  


Of course, what else could he do? He wasn’t tired of his life, after all. He knew that any conflict would result in a bad argument that he was bound to lose. He was a loser, after all. And a pacifist. If there was one thing Jamison hated, it was war. War on Omnics. War between people. There was no point to violence, was there? There’s never a winner, and innocent people will always get hurt.Like what had almost happened in Australia.

You see, several years ago, there had been a war between humans and Omnics in the Outback. Omnics had taken away precious living space for humans, and everyone had to settle away. This of course, increased the levels of anger and hatred. The Australian Liberation Front was formed. Their purpose was to put an end to the Omniums that had been creating more and more Omnics. They wanted everyone dead. They wanted the Omnium gone.

Fortunately, for everyone, they were stopped.

The damage they would’ve afflicted was unimaginable. Entire populations would’ve been irradiated, eradicated, people could’ve died of radiation poisoning, and…and… Jamison shook his head. He groaned, hating the thoughts of what could’ve happened. He felt the pain of those who would’ve been affected. He... his parents, his entire family they…  


No.

  
It didn’t matter. The ALF was stopped, and everyone was saved.

All of a sudden, Jamison was pulled out of his train of thoughts, blinking fast as if he had just snapped back from another reality.

“Fawkes?”

  
“O-Oh. Hello, miss Zaryanova .” He smiled, a gentle smile that made him look like a young, vulnerable child.

  
“Have you taken your medicine, Fawkes?” The tall, muscular lady gave him a questioning look.

She raised her brow, but deep down, they both knew the answer to her question. He had obviously zoned out again, and him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt only made everything more obvious.

  
“Eh.. y-yeah…no.. might’ve forgotten… stress and all, you know?”

Aleksandra sighed. She was like a ... friend to Jamison. His emotional support bully, you could say.  
Before, he never knew why she was working here, in these offices. She towered above everyone, her muscles made her look like she had been wrestling and working out for ages- and… well, she had been.

  
But there was a reason for her stay. Something about important Russian documents that she was supposed to keep an eye on.

  
“Not good, it’s important” she said, pointing a finger to her forehead. “Focus. Concentration. You need it if you want to keep working.”

  
Jamison would’ve rolled his eyes, but he knew she meant well and he knew exactly how right she was. “Yes, got you. Going to get my dose now, thank you for reminding me.”

  
With that, the tall Russian lady nodded, and walked away.

It had been well over four hours and the effects of his ADHD medicine were slowly fading. He had to make a note to himself so he’d remember to ask for a stronger dose. Reaching into his pocket, he took a pill out of a small plastic container and swallowed it down with one gulp. It was bound to be a long day. He turned around, facing the stack of paper he needed to go through.

'Crikey…'

He groaned, and sat down, and began to go through every document. One… by one… by one…

  
By the time he had finally finished, everything had gone quiet. He was alone.

'Great,' he mumbled to himself. He leaned back into his chair, stretched, and let out a satisfied yawn. He may not have looked like it, but he was incredibly proud of his work. No matter how much, no matter how unimportant or stupid it seemed to others. Things had to be done, and he was happy it was his job. Now it was time for him to look at the clock.

Almost  nine?!  


He had worked TWO hours over his usual shift, and he knew damn well that Her Majesty wouldn’t pay him for it. Ah…well. He was used to being the pushover.  


As he stood up, he heard something fall on the floor. Curious, he turned around, just to spot a small sticker that had written “Im a Nerd, I have no friends  :’(” on it.  


Haha. Funny. How long had this been on his back?  
Jamison sighed, but the sad smile remained. They always knew how to get a good laugh.  
He kneeled down, and picked up the small piece of paper, crumbling it into a ball before throwing it into the nearest paper bin. Or, at least he had tried.  


He missed. At least no one saw him. Or so he thought.

A strange, hair-raising feeling overwhelmed the young blonde. Something…someone was watching him. He felt it in his guts. Maybe someone was trying to play a prank on him?

“Ha-ha... yeah... very funny guys. Come on, you can come out now.”

Silence. Nothing but the heavy ticking of the clock.

Another sigh, another cheap excuse from Jamison’s mind. It’s fine, it’s probably just the stress. It’s been a long day after all. 'Now all we need is a good, long bath, with lots of bubbles and mister ducky.' He smiled at the thought. There was absolutely nothing more relaxing than a warm bath before bed. Maybe some tea, too. Half-sweet. Perfect.

Finally, after having calmed his worrying mind, he decided to leave. But not before he set down a small chocolate bear in front of Zaryanova’s desk. He had never seen her eat them, but she’d always walk up to him and give him a gentle fist bump on his shoulder, thanking him. She may have meant it well and in a friendly way but… well, at this point his shoulder was blue. He appreciated the gesture, though.

He took his black suit jacket , brushed his hair back, and adjusted a few minor spots. Finally, he took his black over-the-shoulder leather bag and left the office . It was a long day, but no one needed to see that it was, right?  


 ten hours, he was finally able to close the door behind him, shutting his eyes when he felt the warm breeze of fresh air on his face. He inhaled deeply, a smile plastered on his face as he made his way home.  


He wasn’t someone to take public transport, or drive, for that matter. He preferred walking. It was good for him after he’d been sitting for so long. After all, the blonde man never worked out. No time. Sure, he was healthy, but he was, in fact, a tall, lanky nerd. There was nothing else to him. So, the least he could do was walk, right?

  
Jamison took his usual route, past several local shops. Some of them had closed already. The sky was no longer a bright blue, but rather started to fade into a dark shade of grey. He was lost in his thoughts once more, but now it didn’t matter. He wasn’t working and he could let his mind wander freely. Although he didn’t like it, it was sometimes necessary to take a break from the drugs after he had taken them for hours.  


ADHD. He was glad it was diagnosed as early as it was. It could’ve cost him his career.

His thoughts drifted here, and there, but not for long. Something... was off.

Jamison slowed down, his eyes darting from side to side before he took the courage to look behind. But there was nothing. He shrugged it off, yet his breathing had already turned shaky. He wasn’t made for stress. Or fear. Or any emotion but happiness and joy .  


He continued along his way. There hadn’t been a day where he had wished that his route didn’t go through a dark alleyway.  
He groaned, knowing this was the quickest and easiest way.  


'It’s just the stress. Just the stress,' he told  himself, over and over.  


He made his way off the normal path and into the alley.  


A footstep… click.. another footstep… another click .

Jamison froze. But again, there was nothing but silence. Nothing but deafening, crushing silence.  


He turned around, and was able to spot…a… cat? He wasn’t sure. But it had… quite bright eyes, hazel, almost yellow. They were only visible for a split second but they were gone now. 'Stupid cat', he grumbled internally, and continued his walk.  


Except this time, the sound grew closer. The hair on his neck rose and he felt a shiver in his entire body. That was a foot, he was certain. But what was that other noise? There was nothing that could’ve…  


A low growl. Jamisons eyes widened, but he didn’t move. He was plastered to the spot. His fight-or-flight response was completely nonexistent, the only option he knew was curl up and  .  
But he was too afraid, even for this. So he stood there. Petrified. His mind and thoughts were all over the place.

He felt a warm breath in his  . Now he was really shaking.  


There was absolutely nothing in the world that could’ve prepared him for this. If you would’ve told him, he would’ve laughed, right into your face. Of course, he wouldn’t actually have done that - he’s not that type of guy. Yet here he was, standing alone and wishing he had left work sooner. Then, a very familiar voice spoke into his right ear, quiet, yet almost deafening.

  
“Wrong path, mate."

Jamison gulped.

"Ya filthy fuckin’ disgrace!”

The last word was a scream. Before he could turn around himself, Jamison was already back against the wall. A cold metal hand pinned him by his throat, and he stared into the eyes of a man that looked ready to kill.

But that man... was... _him ?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> DUN DUN DUN
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!  
> Obviously there's more to come. I'll see what I can do when it comes to schedules.   
> I hope I'll be able to release one chapter per week- or, once every two weeks. I'll keep you updated in the following chapters!
> 
> Thanks so so so much to TheMusicalHermit for proof-reading and helping me with my mess of a draft :D
> 
> Have a good day!


End file.
